


Black Blood

by bela013



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:58:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bela013/pseuds/bela013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davos is tasked to take Melisandre away on his small boat. Not knowing why, but trusting his king, he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Blood

Her screams were loud. Too loud. Davos wished he could ignore her pain like he ignored her allure. But her tears only made him think of all the times his sweet Marya had to bear him sons, all by herself, with him far away on the sea, not able to hold her hand. Much unlike her smiles, that made her eyes burn, he was never sure what they burned, but burn they did. Those flames he could ignore.

 

He saw her changing on their way there, the shift in the boat, the stomach that grew at each movements of the rows. The accusations dried up on his mouth, even if he wanted to call her a red whore, accuse her of trying to destroy his king, he could not. Melisandre was a mother in full bloom, and he always had a weakness for them.

 

There was no logical explanation for that, for the belly that wasn’t just a mere second ago, or why such a huge woman was being rowed away. Did Stannis knew of that, of the child she carried? Was he being sent to kill the mother, or may the Seven forbid, kill the child? No babe was ever to be blamed for the sins that tainted their parents, even one as sinful as it’s mother.

 

But that was when they were still on the boat, where Melisandre still kept a poised figure, even if tiredness painted her face. He could still help her out of the boat, pretending she was a mere woman, and that her touch didn’t burn. Davos regretted not stopping her from removing her red robe. She was naked underneath it, but that was no problem, he’s seen many naked women in his time, he was no shy boy, but the reality of her full belly made him shiver. Her stomach looked like a ripe fruit, ready to be picked out of the tree.

 

The red robe was thrown on the floor, and she soon followed, laying over it, with tear beginning to form in her equally red eyed. Her ear piercing screams started on the moment she laid back and assumed a birthing position. Apparently she too, knew how ripe that stomach looked.

 

Truth to be told, no matter if he was sent to murder one, both or none, Davos already was ready to save them, it was of no consequence that the red woman wanted to burn another child, in that moment, it made no difference. To Davos, in that cave, she was only a mother. And all it took was a step forward from things to turn sour, too fast for him to do anything but scream too.

 

That thing could be blood, she could be bleeding out. But blood wasn’t black, and even if he wished for the Stranger to take her, one would have to be the Stanger himself to bleed pitch black. Her screams turned higher, and mumbled out words, some on his tongue, some on her, it didn’t matter that he didn’t speak it, he knew that in that tone, there was only one thing that could mean, and it was help.

 

Dragging himself across the floor, he managed to reach her by the side, close enough to see the thing that wanted to drag itself out of her, but far enough so he could just turn his head and ignore it. Except that it was impossible, he could not tear his eyes of it, not as it started to move.

 

The black blood took shape, a hand shot up from it, and soon another. The black creature was stronger than either of them, for it hoisted itself from a puddle, while they could only scream. Davos was sure that he was beginning to cry and ask for help too.

 

Pulling itself to full height, the thing, the shadow of a man, towered over them. Its eyes simply weren’t, its body was only the outline of a man. It could be of a man, or maybe of a devil. It was fortunate that it didn’t want a thing with them. It only turned its head to the mouth of the cave, and walked out, sucking the little warmth he had on his bones and the light of the lantern he had carried inside with them.

 

It took what felt like hours for him to find strength to move again, to drag his body just a bit more and see the red woman face to face. Tears marks ran down her cheeks, but it was a relived smile that greeted him, and not a visage of more pain. Not even the dark prevented him from seeing her clearly, it was almost as if she had her own light.

 

“Did you see him?” even with her voice hoarse from all that screaming, Davos could make out the pride. She sounded just like Marya when talking about something one of their sons did. That pride fuelled the smile, making almost impossible to see all the physical pain that it concealed.

 

Not wanting to upset her, not when she had just given birth to something he didn’t even knew what it was, Davos nodded to whatever she said, and dragged himself even closer. Her naked skin was hot on his, not something to fear when he was as chilled as he was, but it wasn’t proper, so he also helped her into her discarded robe.  Her once gracious movements were dulled, and not with the heaviness of a pregnant belly, but with pain. He could tell, at each shift of her body, she’d suppress a wince.

 

She seemed to be used to such bounds of pain though, for she had a way to keep it out of her mind. A low hum, of a song he didn’t know, never heard, not even in all his years as a sailor, filled the cave, echoing where her screams did. To him, it felt like a mother’s hymn.

 

They were more or less in each other’s arms. Maybe for comfort, some of it for warmth, at least from his part. He could almost feel the war outside those stone walls, and it felt as natural as the screams that slipped out of his mouth when the thing bleed out of its mother.

 

“We should go” his voice was much like hers, hoarse from screaming, except that Melisandre was not Davos, and she would not indulge him.  Her head swayed in negative, but he didn’t press her. He only sat in the dark with her.

 

Not for long though. Light came walking to them. At the mouth of the cave, he could not see its face, but he knew to whom the long shadow that was cast across the cave belonged to, or at least he though he did.

 

The man was tall, his face not yet gaunt with hunger and battle, it was almost as if Stannis had been born again. But it wasn’t him. The eyes were wrong, they were only black, no white in it. Not to mention the fact that he was naked and covered in something that looked like black blood.

 

“My son!” Melisandre cried once more, again because of the monster she birthed, but now in happiness, not in pain. She even opened her arms to him, her back rested onto Davos’ chest, shielding him from his fear of the monster.

 

Davos was sure that they could all hear his heart hammering in his chest. Melisandre did not care, barely acknowledging his presence there. But the creature almost started at him, even if he could not tell with those pure black eyes.

 

Still at the mouth of the cave, the thing seamed to make a decision and started to walk toward the open arms of its mother. In that thing he could see Stannis growing younger, the man gave place to the same boy he found at that siege at each step it took. The old sailor tried to be surprised, but after today, few things would be able to make him want to rethink reality.

 

Now, in front of them, stood a small boy, hair and eyes pitch black. Melisandre made a grab for the boy, and soon they were all on the floor. The thing keep getting younger, and soon the humming that echoed in the cave, was replaced like the scream was. The red woman cried as she cradled a baby on her arms.

 

“Will you help me, Ser Davos?” he would have asked, but looking over her shoulder, the image of the dead child burned into his eyes. “My son… he can’t be left like an animal” no, of course, not. No mother should have to say that out loud.

 

It wasn’t hard to dig a small hole with his hands. The problem was to ignore the voice in his head, which screamed in rage, saying that he shouldn’t be helping her bury that monster while his own sons laid on the bottom of the sea. But his heart couldn’t bear to leave her to her own devices. The woman before him was not the witch who breather fire, she was all but a mother cradling the corpse of her child. And he understood the feelings he could see in her face, so he dug more, all to make sure that nothing would dig up the babe.

 

Offering his own cape to wrap around it, Davos could almost imagine he was final burring his own sons. So they both cried together, and climbed back on the boat. The night was coming to an end. He didn’t know what he had been sent to do, or how to look that the woman’s face by the same light that he used to.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I wanted with this fic, but I liked how it turned out.


End file.
